


Content (or how a dog named Granola changed Alex Morgan's life)

by WNThitsthelinks



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Granola the wonder dog, It is now, aka the marley and me AU, it's literally just mush. this whole thing. mush., they're gay and in love AU, what do you mean that's not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8105635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WNThitsthelinks/pseuds/WNThitsthelinks
Summary: Alex and Kelley move in together, and Alex gets some Ideas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is renee's fault

Alex is obnoxiously happy. 

She's living her life with Kelley she never thought would be possible; they're living their life together. They're slowly becoming Alex and Kelley, and their friends have started to only send one invite, knowing that they'll go almost everywhere as a pair. She loves the way their clothes no longer have sides in the closet, and how they're always running out of conditioner too quickly, and the way the furniture from their previous apartments is mixed together in their new house. No one is sure which pot or knife or plate came from where anymore. Kelley's favorite armchair, but Alex's sofa. Alex's bed frame, but Kelley's mattress.

She loves their own specific brand of new. Their fluffy new comforter, and the shower curtain with a map of the world, and their newer and bigger dining room table. Things that don't exist as Alex's, or Kelley's, but merely theirs. 

On the third night they spend in their home together, Kelley whispers "ours" in her sleepy, drawl heavy voice. It's almost lost in Alex's neck, but Alex so rarely misses anything Kelley says. She whispers it right back, and curls her arm that much tighter around Kelley's back. 

Alex is happy, and so is Kelley. 

But Kelley is Kelley, and after their home loses the smell of paint and IKEA furniture, she starts to get restless. 

Alex doesn't really notice at first, mostly because they travel so often. Kelley's spontaneity has always been one of the qualities Alex loves most, anyway. It leads to watching sunrises two hours from their home, and trying new recipes that leave the house smelling like a bakery. 

Really, it boils down to this: Kelley loves adventure, and Alex loves Kelley. 

Kelley doesn't really like to go too long without change, like moving the dresser to the other side of the closet, or never buying the same brand of toothpaste twice. It's not that she's unhappy, just that she likes to be busy. She's most dangerous on the days where she doesn't have practice and there's nothing to occupy her attention. When Alex comes home with arms stuffed with groceries and slams her leg into a moved coffee table, however, things become less fun. Her curse is muffled by one of the reusable grocery bags Kelley has trained her into using, but the sudden silence that follows her outburst tells Alex more than any noise could. 

"If you help me with these bags I won't yell at you for moving things without warning me." 

Alex's blackmail always works, and she's suddenly watching Kelley's sports bra clad back walk away with half of her bags. It isn't a bad view at all, and Alex forgets about Kelley's restlessness for a little while longer. 

They aren't perfect—not by a long shot. Kelley keeps leaving her stuff everywhere, and Alex keeps cleaning things without saying where she’s putting anything. They aren't perfect, but they're in love and they're happy. 

It’s the small moments that make it real, the moments that Alex didn’t even know she was missing before. It’s Kelley belting out the latest chart-topper in the shower and dancing into their bedroom in her towel before casually dropping it and getting dressed with absolutely no embarrassment. 

(Sometimes she doesn’t end up getting dressed, and that’s nice too.)

It’s Kelley cooking pancakes at ten in the morning on a Sunday as Alex acts as DJ A.Morgs and plays the songs that are easiest to sing along to. _I Want to Know What Love Is _by Foreigner is a classic that always leads to an epic dance party, and at least one burned pancake.__

Alex doesn’t think much of playing _Sparks Fly _by her good friend Taylor Swift, mostly because Kelley’s rendition of _Dear John _had left her in stitches. Kelley is bopping her head and flipping a pancake when Alex spins her away so they can dance across the kitchen floor together.____

They’re halfway through their dance party when Alex starts to listen to the lyrics. She’s captivated by her girlfriend, as she usually is, but this is Kelley at her finest. Her laugh is free and easy, and her eyes are wide with an absolute joy that Alex wants to keep preserved forever.

(Alex isn’t really into big tattoos, but if she got one she’s pretty sure it would say

 _Get me with those green eyes, baby_  
_As the lights go down  
Gimme something that'll haunt me whenever you're not around_

She isn’t even embarrassed about it. It would go across her ribs, probably, but she thinks that maybe the reason she likes it so much isn’t because she wants the tattoo but because it’s thinking about Kelley and permanent in the same sentence.)

Kelley kisses her as the song fades, and they keep kissing into the silence of their kitchen on a sleepy Sunday morning. The smell of burning pancakes eventually forces them apart, but Kelley doesn’t stop smiling for a while.

It's late January when the idea hits her. 

She's sore from camp, and lonely because of Kelley's spontaneous trip to Georgia that she couldn't join due to some stupid Nike commitment. Their bed feels ginormous with only one person, and Alex dulls her sorrows by scrolling through puppy Instagram accounts. It's almost always a foolproof plan, guaranteed to make her feel better, but then she sees a post about Christmas puppies being abandoned by owners who didn't understand the responsibility of taking care of a dog. Her eyes get misty, and she double taps the picture so severely she nearly cracks the screen with her nail. Having a dog to cuddle while Kelley's away seems like an amazing idea. She looks up dog shelters near their house, and brainstorms the best way to ask Kelley. Alex can't imagine Kelley not wanting a dog. What better way to keep from getting bored than to occupy their time with a new family member? 

(The thought of her and Kelley and family in the same sentence makes her breath hitch, and she bookmarks the website of the dog shelter.)

Kelley comes back relaxed, with an easy smile lighting up her face like it always does when she spends time in Georgia. They're eating takeout on the couch with their legs tangled and a football game neither of them cares about on the TV when Kelley says, "Do you want to get a dog?"

Alex stops chewing her sesame chicken and stares at the pensive, freckled face across from her. Alex says, "I was thinking we'd adopt from a shelter" and the grin that splits Kelley's face is so blinding that she forgets their takeout in favor of welcoming Kelley back home by leading her to the bedroom. 

(The food spoils, and they have to throw it out in the morning.)

It's almost too easy, in the end. There's an overgrown puppy at the dog shelter closest to their house, and he trundles his way over to them immediately. The woman working there explains to them that he'd been left without a name, and they thought he was some sort of Golden Retriever mix. Alex looks at the dog, and then at Kelley, and feels like the Grinch with her overgrown heart. 

(She figures it has to be at least two sizes too big at this point.)

Alex is already under the impression that Kelley is The Cutest Person, and adding a puppy to the mix is almost unfair. There's a brief debate in the car about names, but Kelley comes up with Granola so abruptly and with such confidence that Alex really can't say no. 

Kelley's puppy dog eyes were invincible before, and now she's got a pair of actual puppy dog eyes to pair them with. 

Alex is screwed. 

(She doesn't really mind.)

Her Instagram is nothing but pictures of Granola for a solid week, and Christen comments with at least seven emojis on every single one. Kelley sticks to only one post, a sepia toned photograph of Granola joining Alex on the couch for an afternoon nap. 

(It breaks her previous like record. Alex brags for days.)

Granola sleeps at the foot of their bed and sometimes wakes them up with his dog breath, but he always comes when they call him and he loves to cuddle just as much as they do. He never chews on a single pair of either of their shoes, and he doesn't bark at three in the morning. Alex trains him to get the newspaper in the morning, and soon any mail at all comes to them with dog drool on the envelope. Kelley pretends to mind, just so she can wipe it off dramatically on Alex's shirt. Granola's third favorite human is the mailwoman, Gina, who sometimes has a treat stashed in her coat pocket. On the days when neither Alex or Kelley have mail—which are few and far between—Gina gives Granola a random slip of paper so he can do his very favorite job. Kelley takes to buying Gina a different kind of cookie just about every month to thank her.

Alex is in charge of baths, and Kelley is in charge of walks. Or runs, really. It's far more convenient to take Granola with her on her morning workout, and his bathroom breaks give her an excellent excuse to catch her breath. After a month she foregoes the leash entirely, confident that he’ll follow her without it. On hot days, Granola will sometimes stop running and abruptly sit down in the shade. Kelley calls him Granny and spends no less than ten minutes trying to get him going again. 

The only creature on the _planet _who loves water more than Kelley is Granola. Alex is a big fan of a relaxing bath, but more often than not she'll be awoken from her dozing by Granola climbing into the tub with her. Kelley used to be the biggest culprit of disturbing her me-time in the bath, but their silly, cuddly dog is quickly snatching first place. He just sits in the water with her, and he's very quiet, but Alex figures out that locking the door is a necessity for a solitary bath time. They learn to bring two extra towels with them to the beach, because Granola will inevitably end up in the water, trying desperately to follow Kelley into the surf.__

They take Granola with them when they go paddle boarding now, and they both learn to balance differently on the board when there's a dog sitting up front. 

Their backpacking trips become limited to trails that are dog friendly, and they try desperately to find room for Granola's food bowl in one of their packs. Alex generally takes the tent, and Kelley takes their sleeping bag and snacks. Alex's bag becomes stuffed with dog food and Kelley hangs the large metal bowl from the edge of hers, and they quickly forget what hiking was like without the clang of a bowl knocking against a carabiner with every step. Granola hates being in the tent, which leaves Kelley and Alex snuggled together in their sleeping bag until his panting face pushed up against the mosquito netting wakes them up. One off weekend they hike to a lake, and Alex sits on the bank with a book and doesn’t read it. Instead, she watches Kelley splash in the water with their dog. She looks at how the sun reflects off of the water and listens to Kelley's laugh and falls a little bit more in love with her. On the hike back down the next day, Alex can't stop looking over at the curve of Kelley's nose and the freckles dusting across her cheeks. 

(Kelley lets her look, and spends just as much time staring right back.)

Their backyard is small, but it's enough for a goal and the grill Kelley bought at a yard sale last month. Granola takes to chasing the ball whenever Kelley and Alex try and get some extra practice in, evening though it's too big to fit in his mouth. The O'Hara-Morgan household becomes one of many slobbery tennis balls. They're in the park on a warm and clear day, Granola frantically chasing the ball Kelley has lobbed as far as she can, when Alex hears her whisper, "What if he brings it back because he thinks we like throwing it?"

Alex's laugh is loud and clear, and she is content. 

Except, she isn't. 

She's happy, God she's happy. She's happier than she's ever been in her whole life. She's at the peak of her game, with an amazing girlfriend and a marshmallow of a dog, and she sometimes gets so full of her life she doesn't know how she's supposed to keep all of her emotions under her ribs. It’s hard to keep the smile off of her face, some days.

She gets the idea early one morning, on a rare day where's she's awake before Kelley or Granola. Alex is warm and sleepy, and she can feel her girlfriend's breath puffing softly against her neck. She's suddenly overwhelmed by how much she hates the word girlfriend, and she slips her hand under Kelley's shirt to feel the warm, smooth skin of her back. 

She spends a month training Granola to carry a small box until she can get him to run away and return with it only to drop it any place she points to. She waits until they're on the beach—the only place where Kelley's smile can get more wide and vibrant than it gets while she's on the pitch—and then she feigns throwing a stick. Kelley is watching the water, and Alex rubs her palms against her thighs. Granola runs down the beach, the small black box already nudged carefully in his mouth. Kelley is still watching the water, and Alex feels the nerves she gets before big tournaments rolling across her stomach. When Granola returns, Alex points to Kelley as subtly as she can, prompting him to drop it right at her feet. 

"Whatcha got there, bud?" Kelley looks at Alex, amusement at their dog clear in her face, before she opens the box and goes absolutely silent. 

Kelley stares at the ring, and then drags her eyes up to meet Alex's. 

Alex thinks she had a speech, a wild and romantic monologue that would convince the love her life to spend the rest of their forever together, but the look in Kelley's eyes quiets even the most anxious part of her brain. 

"Marry me?"

Alex has never been that great with words, anyway. 

Kelley has one hand clenched around the ring box, but the other sinks itself into Alex's hair as she slides their lips together. It's warm and light, and just the tiniest bit dirty. Alex's hands bunch up the back of Kelley's tank top, and their hips lock together in that tantalizingly familiar way. Alex and Kelley have kissed a lot, but this is—different. 

One of their favorite movies is The Princess Bride, and every time they watch it Alex leans over to kiss Kelley as the narrator says "Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.”

Alex thinks that this kiss could give Westley and Buttercup a run for their money. 

(Alex almost misses the yes that gets whispered against her lips, but Alex so rarely misses anything Kelley says.)

It's hard for Alex to understand Tobin's and Allie’s devotion to God most of the time, or even Kelley's quiet prayers, but in that split second, she finally gets it. She feels like she’s only just started breathing on the cusp of Kelley's lips, and that moment they share together is the closest to enlightenment that Alex will ever get. 

They kiss until Granola barks at them and knocks them into the sand. He wedges himself between them and demands to be pet, and as Alex complies Kelley slips her new ring on. They sit together, the three of them, until the last rays of the sun disappear over the horizon and stop reflecting off of the diamond on Kelley's left ring finger. 

(They get married in Georgia, with fairy lights twinkling in the trees. Granola wears a bow tie, and trots down the aisle with their wedding rings securely held in a small box in his mouth.

Kelley threatens to wipe the drool from the box off on Alex’s dress, and Alex is too happy to even be annoyed.)

Their married life is kind of the same as their life was before, except sometimes when their fingers tangle now their rings will knock together. Their names stay the same on the field, but on paper they’re smushed together with a hyphen. They're the same, but Kelley is officially Alex's forever. 

(She likes the sound of that. It sounds like Kelley's laughter when they're in bed late at night, and like her aggravated yells at the TV when one of her teams is losing, and most of all it sounds like a "love you" whispered into her neck when they're almost asleep.

The idea of being Kelley's makes something warm tighten in her gut. Alex whispers "I love you too" into her hair.)

It's hard to leave Granola when they go on the road for games, but it's entertaining to watch their neighbors start to fight over who gets to dog sit. Alex likes it best when Tristan and Sam get him, because they let her FaceTime with her dog without laughing at her too much. Granola always barks at the screen when he hears her voice, and Kelley only makes fun of her once before she's snuggled up to Alex and speaking to their dog through the phone as well. 

Granola just about tackles them every time they get back, but he learns to live with being shut out of the bedroom for that first night. Alex gets to spend time with Kelley on the road, but they haven't been eligible to be roommates for four and a half years now. Granola whines at the door, but Alex and Kelley aren't paying that much attention. 

They're sitting on the patio at a restaurant with Granola's leash tied around Alex's chair when a family of three sits down next to them. The kid is maybe two years old, but Alex has never been good at guessing the age of babies anyway. Kelley has been talking about some college defender she's convinced is going to make it big, but all of a sudden she keeps losing her train of thought and trailing off. Alex follows her gaze over her shoulder, and sees the toddler applying mashed potatoes to his hair. Alex looks back, and the smile playing around the corners of Kelley’s mouth is dangerous.

Alex has never really seen herself as a mom, but she sees Kelley interact with teammate’s kids all of the time. Alex realizes abruptly, with her fork halfway to her mouth, that she has always assumed that Kelley would be a mom one day.

(Here’s the thing Alex didn’t consider: if Kelley is a mom, she is too.)

Alex brings the fork to her mouth and asks a question about the college player’s stats.

It rests in the back of Alex’s mind. She swears that there weren’t nearly as many pregnant women before, but now she sees them everywhere—in the supermarket, crossing the street, taking strolls on the beach. 

She’s still getting used to calling Kelley her wife—her _wife _—and now she can’t look at anyone under the age of ten without a weird buzzing feeling taking over her chest.__

Granola just about yanks Kelley’s arm out of her socket during a walk in the park one day as he chases a squirrel, much to Alex’s amusement. They don't usually put him on a leash, since he's content to follow them without one, but in a park with four playgrounds they figure they’d be better safe than sorry. Granola is left barking up a tree, and Alex is so busy grinning at her beautiful wife and silly dog that she almost misses the kid that walks up them. She’d guess he’s about seven, and he’s nervously fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, and Alex walks close enough to hear him ask if he can pet Granola. Kelley’s reply is warm and inviting, and he nervously sticks his hand out to rest of Granola’s head. Granola’s tail starts wagging immediately, and he sits quietly and lets the kid pet him while Kelley watches with a soft smile. The kid sticks around for barely a minute, but the feeling in Alex’s gut lingers.

Alex takes a sip of her coffee to try and eliminate the lump in her throat. 

(It doesn’t work.)

Kelley brings it up that night, when they’re pressed together under their sheets.

“Did you see the way Granola just sat there when that kid pet him?”

Alex breathes in the scent of Kelley’s shampoo. “Yeah.” She traces an aimless pattern into Kelley’s forearm. “It was cute.”

Kelley’s sigh ghosts over Alex’s neck. “Yeah.”

Alex sleeps deeply, and wakes up with Kelley’s hand still clutching her shirt as she dreams.

It’s another month before they break. Kelley is drinking coffee and reading an article on her phone when Alex asks over her bowl of cereal “Do you want kids?”

Kelley looks up from her phone, the shock in her eyes illuminated by the brightness of her screen. “Do _you _want kids?”__

Alex tries not to get frustrated. “I asked first.”

“Al, come on.”

Alex doesn’t _want _to go first, but the look on Kelley’s face makes her. “I don’t know, really. I just-” She cuts herself off, trying to find the right words, the ones that will make the pinch between Kelley’s eyebrows go away. “I just know that you’ll be an amazing mom, Kell. And-” She stops again, watching as Kelley gets up and comes to sit in her lap. The words she couldn't find before fly from her mouth before she can even really process them. “Honestly, Kelley, I’ll go on any adventure with you, and this seems like the best one yet.”__

There’s a moment suspended between them where they breathe the same air, and then Kelley’s forehead rests against her own.

“I’d love to be a mom with you, Alex."

It’s Alex who buries her face in Kelley’s neck this time. She feels relief in her chest like something hot evaporating. 

“You do realize that we already have a kid though, right? His name’s Granola and he loves bacon.”

They both laugh until their sides hurt and they almost fall off the chair. 

(Alex thinks, perhaps, that the best way to describe that moment is giddying—verb; to make (someone) feel excited to the point of disorientation.)

As she walks towards the shower, still laughing under her breath, she hears Kelley call out, “I’m not forgetting that, Alex! Easily the most romantic thing you’ve ever said. I want a re-do on my proposal!”

(Alex has only been in the shower for thirty seconds before Kelley joins her.)

A couple of days later, they have the logistics talk. Alex has her feet in Kelley’s lap, and they try to figure out if they want adoption or pregnancy. Money isn’t an issue, but their careers are their bodies. They’ve seen A-Rod do it, and Boxxy, and countless others, but it's less about if they can and more about do they want to. 

Kelley looks over at Granola, who’s napping in the chair that they pretend he isn’t allowed to climb onto. Alex follows her gaze, and thinks of the wagging tail on the not-quite puppy at the dog shelter, and all the other dogs past him that they never even saw.

When they look at each other again, they both know.

“Let’s adopt.”

Neither of them are prepared for how long it takes, and the waiting seems so unfair, now that they know what they want and how to get it. Some nights, when Granola is curled up by their feet and quietly sleeping, Alex and Kelley stare in silence at the ceiling together, desperate for something they know isn’t theirs yet. On those nights, the only thing that keeps Alex sane is the weight of Kelley's hand in her own. 

They play soccer, and go to the beach with their dog, and Alex sprains her ankle and recovers. They dress Granola as Air-Bud for Halloween, and spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with family. They’re the same, almost, but there’s an anticipation resting just under their skin. 

They’ve never been very good at being patient, but they manage.

(They get their baby boy a year and seven months later, and his name is James. They keep the name, officially, but call him Jamie. He has wispy, brown hair, and dark eyes, and the smallest hands Alex has ever seen.)

Alex and Kelley are terrified that Granola might step on him by accident, or whap him in the face with his constantly wagging tail. They introduce Jamie to him slowly, holding the small bundle carefully to their chests as Granola sniffs him experimentally.

Both Kelley and Alex are surprised when Granola merely sits down and rests his head as close as possible to their small baby boy. 

(Granola stops sleeping at the foot of their bed. Alex is confused, until she gets up to attempt to soothe Jamie’s cries and finds her ridiculous dog sitting calmly by the crib.)

Jamie’s very favorite activity becomes playing with Granola. When they let him crawl around the living room, Granola will come over and lay down, and not move an inch as Jamie climbs all over him. Kelley breaks her loose rule of leaving personal things off of social media to spam her Instagram followers with pictures of her two babies. 

(When he screams at four in the morning, Kelley kicks her and says, “Your son is awake.”

Alex groans. “Why is he _my _son at four AM?”__

“Because he was my son at two AM, and now he’s yours again.”

Alex stumbles down the hall to his room, and is greeted with the sight of Granola sticking his head through the bars of Jamie’s crib. Jamie’s screams have quieted into hiccups, but Alex picks him up and rocks him anyway, giving Granola a quick pat on the head.)

Alex is reading Peter Pan as a bedtime story, having been told by their pediatrician that kids that are read to daily have better vocabularies and faster development. 

(Her son will have the _best _vocabulary and the _fastest _development.)____

She’s reading softly, and looking up every few seconds to see Jamie’s eyes watching intently, as though a five month old could understand what she was saying perfectly.

“When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.”

Alex stops, and thinks back to the week before, when Granola licking Jamie’s feet had brought about the most beautiful peal of laughter she had ever heard. She folds the corner of the page down and reads it to Kelley later. 

Kelley just smiles and says, “J.M. Barrie might’ve been a racist dumbass, but at least he got something right.”

Alex laughs, and she doesn’t miss the adoring look that Kelley has in her eyes.

Jamie stands on his own for the first time by clutching Granola's collar and hauling himself up. He takes his first steps when he toddles from Granola to Kelley's waiting arms and Alex doesn't try to hide the tears that leak from the corners of her eyes. 

Jamie's first word, not counting his first "Mama," happens on the beach. He's protected under a thick coat of sunscreen and a hat and an umbrella, and he points at the piece of rotting wood that Granola has brought him and says "Stick!"

Alex and Kelley spend the next hour saying "stick" in varying levels of excitement, but their son is only concerned with petting Granola, who's resting his head in Jamie's lap. 

(When Alex looks down one morning and sees the faintest hint of freckles scattered across Jamie's nose her breath catches in her throat. She picks up her boy and presses a kiss to his cheek, warm and soft.)

Being on the road with Jamie comes with the privilege of sharing a room, but all three of them feel Granola's absence like a heavy blanket. Jamie doesn't really understand, at first, and keeps asking for him. Alex knows it breaks Kelley's heart, to not be able to give him everything he wants. She'd be concerned about spoiling him, but being a mother with Kelley has made her fall in love all over again, and she can't bear to change anything. 

They end up going out more at camp, since there are dozens aunts who are all fighting to be the favorite babysitter. Both Alex and Kelley are awful at being on dates together without checking their phone for updates now, but Alex will catch a familiar glimmer in Kelley's eyes and they'll find themselves back in their hotel room, Jamie gone, and for a couple of hours they'll be just Alex and Kelley. 

(Alex tries not to laugh at her wife's glare when Jamie pokes at a hickey on Kelley's neck and asks what happened. She doesn't really succeed.)

Jamie gets a fever in February, and Alex spends three days anxiously peeking in and out of his room and pacing the hallway. She's standing in his doorway again when Kelley comes up behind her and wraps her arms around her waist. 

"He's gonna be fine, Al. Dr. Murphy said that the antibiotics they put him on will have him sleeping more than usual. Relax." 

Kelley's head pressing against her shoulder helps calm the nervous energy still running through her, but it's seeing Granola curled up by the foot of Jamie's tiny bed that makes her heart rate settle just a bit more. It had been Granola who had barked for their attention when their son had initially thrown up, and he'd barely left Jamie's side since. 

(Alex often thinks that she has the very best family, wife and son and teammates and dog included.)

Sometimes Alex comes home to Kelley trying to get Jamie to sit on Granola's back for the perfect picture. Sometimes Kelley comes home to a suspiciously quiet house, and a toddler jumping out from behind a corner yelling, "Surprise, mama!" When that happens, Kelley will jump dramatically and Granola will bark and Jamie will laugh and laugh and laugh and Alex will wait until he scampers off to press a slow kiss against her wife's mouth. 

They're on the beach, with Granola splashing in the water ahead of them, when Kelley starts to explain to their two and a half year-old why the moon causes tides. Alex watches as she dedicatedly breaks it down in the best way she can, and then she stares at her son when he nods and says, "Okay." She brushes it off as him agreeing but not understanding until he re-explains it to his Aunt Erin verbatim. Kelley shoots Alex a shocked look, and then begins to explain as many things as she can whenever she can. 

Jamie is curious, and likes to spend time outside. The Kelley And Jamie Science Club begins when he carefully picks up a worm he has found in their backyard and tries to give it to Alex. Kelley must see the panic in her eyes, because she distracts him by saying "You know earthworms breathe through their skin, kiddo?" His mouth drops open in a gasp, and Alex inches away. Alex loves playing outdoors with him, but all things creepy, crawly, and gooey fall into Kelley's territory. 

(Except for spiders. Alex has to deal with the spiders.)

Kelley's bedtime story nights quickly turn into Science Night, where she'll find a book about some kind of animal or natural phenomenon and read it to Jamie as he eagerly listens, hands wound around Granola's neck. 

(Alex will watch from the hallway, amazed at the shape her life has taken.)

It's Alex who gets the call. It's an average Tuesday, and Kelley's out jogging with Granola in the early hours of the morning, and Alex is dozing, having woken up when her wife had slipped out of bed. Alex lives by this rule: if the kid's asleep, so are you. She groans when her phone rings, but rolls over and picks it up. She doesn't bother to look at the caller ID, since it's her personal phone, and whoever's on the other side is allowed hear her croaky morning voice. 

She listens to woman speaking on the other end, but doesn't understand. Kelley chooses that moment to walk back into the room, still panting and sweaty from her run. She can hear Granola scamper towards Jamie's room, meaning that she doesn't have much time for this conversation. 

"Kell, why is Carrie from the adoption agency on the phone with me right now?"

Kelley's obviously shocked, and she scrambles to take the phone from Alex's hands. Kelley just about runs out of the room, almost knocking into Jamie as he and Granola walk in. 

"Where's mama going?" He asks and she helps lift him onto the bed. 

"Dunno, buddy. How'd you sleep?" 

Jamie snuggles up to her and nuzzles his face into her neck. "Okay. Had a dream I was an elephant."

That's probably because she had read him _The Elephant's Child _the night before, but Alex makes an interested noise and lets him ramble about his adventure while her mind moves a mile a minute. She's unable to stop thinking about the phone call that Kelley's having, and why she had to leave the room to take it.__

Alex doesn't get a chance to ask her about it for another four hours, caught up in feeding Jamie and realizing that Kelley has a training session scheduled at the gym too late to press her for answers. She's keeping one eye on Jamie and Granola playing in the backyard when Kelley returns with the slightest glimmer of guilt in her eyes. 

Alex doesn't even need to speak before Kelley begins her rambling explanation. "You know how last time it took us almost two years before we got Jamie? And how the waiting almost killed us, because we were so ready but there was nothing we could do-"

"Kell. Of course I remember. What's all this about?"

Kelley takes a deep breath before saying "I put us on the list for another adoption six months ago" in a rush. 

Alex feels her heart jump into her throat. "Kelley, that's not something you do without asking me first!"

Alex tries not to focus on the way the hope in Kelley's eyes falters just a little bit. "I know, I know. I was going to talk to you about it soon, but I figured it would be another two years and we'd talk about it by then and that it would be a good thing that we wouldn't have to wait as long."

Alex brain starts to catch up to the conversation. "Why did Carrie call us this morning, Kelley?"

Kelley swallows, and Alex can see the hope come back to her eyes clear as ever. "We have a baby girl waiting for us if you want her."

Alex has been in bad tackles where's she's gotten cleated straight to the stomach, and none compare to how she feels in that moment. 

(Bulldozed might be the right word.)

"It's just-" Kelley is speaking again, trying to defend herself. "If we waited much longer the age difference between Jamie and the baby would be so much, and-"

"Kell. I'm not mad."

The tension drains out of Kelley's shoulders like a deflating balloon, and Alex walks over to wrap her arms around her wife. Kelley buried her face in her neck, like she always does, and Alex whispers, "When can we pick up our girl?"

(Their baby girl does not have a name, and they call her Clara. She already has a patch of dark hair on her head, and a pair of clear blue eyes.)

Clara is quiet, and only cries when absolutely necessary. She mostly makes little noises of discomfort, and Alex and Kelley learn to react to them just as seriously as they reacted to Jamie's screams. 

Jamie and Granola are just as captivated by their new addition as Alex and Kelley are. Alex was a little concerned that Jamie might feel snubbed now that so much of their attention is focused on baby Clara, but he shows far more interest than either of them expected. She's nervous about letting him hold her, but Kelley shows him how to support her head and he pays such steadfast attention to all the instructions that her anxiety dissipates like it was never even there. 

Granola is just as calm and protective of Clara as he is of Jamie. Clara takes her first steps by holding onto his collar just like Jamie did, and she spends nearly every nap time with him. They tend to nap together, the three of them, and on particularly tiring training days Alex and Kelley will join them. 

(They've entirely given up on getting the dog hairs off of their clothes. Kelley guesses that they spend about ten thousand dollars a year on lint rollers alone.)

Granola randomly alternates the nights he spends in each room, until Clara gets an ear infection and can't stop screaming. Granola generally doesn't do well with noise, startling at thunder and fireworks, but he sits down right next to Clara's crib and refuses to go anywhere. When her pain lessens within the week, Granola goes back to Jamie's room, but takes to prowling back and forth between the two of them. Alex only knows because she can hear his nails click on the floor as he pads down the hallway, and every single time she's overwhelmed by how much she loves that goofy, exuberant dog. 

Kelley is quickly revealing herself as the softie parent, as she really can't say no to anything their kids ask. She spends hours with them out in the yard, kicking a soccer ball around even though she had double training that day and would love to take a nap. Alex offers to sub in, but the pout on Jamie's face keeps Kelley from going anywhere. It's more of an issue when he asks for second servings of ice cream, but Alex knows Kelley well enough to understand that she's absolutely powerless. Their two tiny humans have their mother wrapped entire around their little fingers. 

(Alex is okay with being the strict mom if it means that their kids aren't up until midnight on a sugar rush. She's _just _fine with that.)__

They take family trips to the beach sometimes, and Alex always spends twenty minutes lathering both Jamie and Clara in at least two layers of sunscreen. She doesn't let Jamie anywhere near the water without his life jacket, even though Kelley insists that she's watching him. Clara's too small to want to do much other than play with the sand, and Alex is careful to keep her in the shade of the umbrella. Kelley jokes that family beach days are more stressful for her than relaxing, and Alex agrees. She worries, but it's worth it for Jamie's tinkling little laugh as Granola splashes water on him, and for the joy in his face when Kelley lifts him up and throws him over her shoulder before charging into the waves. It's worth it to see Clara happily letting sand run through her fingers, and the giggle she lets out as Alex buries her little toes in the sand. It's worth it for Kelley's small and relaxed smile in the car ride home, with two kids and the dog passed out in the backseat. It's worth it for Kelley's hand warm on her thigh, whispering how good she looked in her swimsuit. 

(Alex loves family beach days, even if she's terrified of Clara and Jamie getting skin cancer or drowning. She still wouldn't trade those sun kissed hours for anything.)

Kelley laughs until her sides hurt when Jamie says "Mama, I'm cold" and she chooses to respond with "Hi cold, I'm Kelley." Alex watches her laugh at her own joke, half in love and half embarrassed to be married to her, and gets an idea. 

When Father's Day rolls around, Alex gives Kelley a carefully wrapped present containing a "Kiss the Cook" apron and a pair of sandals. 

"To complete your suburban dad vibe when you use the grill," Alex explains. Kelley laughs kisses her, quick and warm, and insists on wearing both of them every single time she grills anything. 

(She also insists that Alex kiss her every time she puts on the apron, and Alex does not mind one bit. It's possibly the best gift she's ever given.)

Alex, Granola, and Jamie are kicking a soccer ball around as Kelley grills some vegetables for that night's dinner, and Alex pauses their game to lean down and whisper something in his ear. He nods, and runs over to Kelley, and throws his arms around her legs. 

"Mama, up! Mama says I gots to kiss you."

Kelley shoots an amused look over her shoulder, but she puts down her tongs and picks up her son. She lets him cover her face in slobbery kisses and attacks him right back until he's out of breath from laughter. Even Clara catches on; when Kelley picks her up to place her in her highchair she places a uncoordinated smooch onto her mother's cheek. 

(There is no better feeling than knowing that her kids are just as in love with her wife as she is.)

Clara's first word happens in the Frankfurt airport, when Kelley asks Alex if she wants a bagel for the flight. Before Alex can respond, a small voice says "No" with perfect clarity. Alex looks around, confused, but Kelley is looking straight at their baby girl. 

"Clara, did you just say that?"

There's a brief silence, and then-

"No."

(Two rows over, Syd and Pinoe laugh until they cry.)

It's the only word she says for two weeks, and to her it means "yes," and "please," and "I fell and my arm hurts." 

It's hard for Jamie to understand, and he spends hours carefully explaining the definition of the word no to her. Alex doesn't have the heart to stop him, not when he says everything so patiently. 

Sometimes she'll watch them play in the backyard, Clara still preferring to follow Jamie and Granola at a crawl. Sometimes Kelley will watch with her, and they'll stand together, wrapped in each other's arms and in awe of the lives they've helped shape. 

They try to have a date night every other Saturday, and every time Alex spends the entire evening anxiously checking her phone for updates. Kelley rolls her eyes and orders another beer, but she looks over Alex's shoulder to make sure she doesn't miss anything. 

Alex admits that she might be an overprotective mom, but she really can't control herself. The life of two small and absolutely perfect human beings relies entirely on her. 

(Usually, at this point in her ranting, Kelley will mention that she too is their mother, but it doesn't do much to calm Alex down.)

When Clara finally starts to babble words that aren’t “no,” she also takes a liking to finger painting. Jamie starts right after her, and soon it becomes a daily event. Clara works calmly, carefully choosing a color and slowly smearing her finger across the page in uneven and jagged lines. Jamie like to choose every color and slam them all together on the page until it’s one puddle of brown.

Their walls are filled with pieces of paper that have dried with the corners curled up from the amount of paint left soaking into them.

Alex loves watching them work, and so does Granola. He tries to eat the paint once, which lead to screams of dismay from Jamie, who had been told sternly last week that chocolate could kill dogs. Mostly, however, Granola will just sit by them as they paint.

Then Jamie gets an idea.

(Kelley says that Alex can be blamed for that.

“You always get _ideas _, Al. You’re an idea person, and that kid is clearly your son.”__

Alex can tell she’s messing around from the glint in her eyes, but she still gets a warm buzz all over her body anyway.

_Her son _.)__

Alex walks into the dining room, which is covered in plastic sheets and newspaper for that afternoon’s finger painting session, and she sees her dog covered in blue paint. He hasn’t walked anywhere, thank God, but instead just sits calmly, panting, as Jamie slowly pets him with a paint covered hand. Clara is giggling, and there's a spot of red on Granola's ear that Alex suspects came from her. 

“Look at Granola, mama! He’s _blue _.”__

Alex sighs. She washed Granola yesterday. “I can see that, baby. Remember how we said that paint was for paper?”

Jamie pouts, and Alex can feel her will to say no slowly disintegrating. If she were Kelley, she’d already be painting the dog too. She walks over, and sees that Jamie’s paper isn’t a brown puddle like it usually is, but instead three smudged blue paw prints and an imprint of the side of Granola’s face.

(Alex puts the picture on Instagram, and captions it #granolathewonderdog. Within ten minutes she has four different bids that are higher than $500.

They auction it off, and decide to donate the money to the dog shelter they got Granola from.)

Jamie wants to paint with Granola every day, but Alex can only wash the damn dog so many times. They limit him to once every two weeks, and Granola Paint Days become a family affair. Clara doesn’t like to paint Granola herself, but enjoys placing his colorful paw in various places across the paper per Jamie's specific instructions. 

Clara is quiet, but far from shy. Jamie spends a lot of time talking to her with only getting a nod or a shake of the head in response, and learns to communicate for his younger sister so she doesn’t have to speak. When Clara does talk, the three of them tend to go quiet, listening attentively to what she has to say.

(She has them all wrapped around her little finger, and she knows it already.)

The one time that Clara isn’t quiet is when she’s angry. Kelley claims she gets her temper from Alex, but Alex claims it comes straight from Kelley. The most common squabble is her and Jamie fighting over who gets to play with Granola, and often ends with both kids in their own rooms and the dog out in the yard. Even though her vocabulary has expanded, she takes to screaming "no" over and over again when she's mad. Alex hates to admit it, but it's fairly effective. The only time she can be really difficult is at bedtime. As she’s gotten older, Clara has found more and more ways to try and evade going to bed. Most recently, she’s tried stripping down entirely and calling out, “Mama, I’m naked!” It leads to interesting whisper fights between Alex and Kelley who don’t want to leave her, but know that going inside and giving her attention is exactly what they shouldn’t be doing. But, as far as tantrums go, they've made it out without too many. The ominous "terrible twos" really weren't that bad at all, and sometimes Kelley will look at her and whisper, "How did we manage to luck out this much?"

(Alex has no idea.

She does wish that Kelley would stop feeding Granola under the table where both Jamie and Clara can see, but she figures she’s still pretty lucky.)

They’re both in awe of how well their kids get along. Clara is fond of grabbing onto the back of Jamie's t-shirt and following him and Granola around, which makes for more adorable pictures than either Kelley or Alex could've dreamed of. When Jamie goes off to preschool, it's hard to tell who's more upset about it. Kelley is a mess, and it takes Alex a good fifteen minutes to even get her out of bed. She keeps insisting that Jamie will stay tiny forever if she never gets up, which makes Alex love her just a little bit more. 

(She pushes her out of bed, though. She has chocolate chip pancakes to make.)

Clara is quiet during breakfast, as usual, and Jamie talks a mile a minute about how excited he is to go to school like a big kid. When he goes back upstairs to get dressed ("Do it myself, mama!"), Clara turns to Kelley and says, "Don't want Jamie to go."

Clara's smart. She knows to target Kelley, who is abysmal at saying no to anything the kids ask for. 

Alex takes over, seeing the honest despair in Kelley's eyes at knowing she's going to hurt her little girl's feelings. Alex kneels down and says, "Clara, baby, Jamie has to go to school. You're going to one day, too. It's exciting, not sad."

Alex's worst fears come true as Clara's chin starts to wobble just a little bit. She rushes to pick her up and hold her close, desperate to quell the hiccups that are already starting. "It's okay, sweetie, it's okay. He'll be back in a couple of hours, and you'll get to play with Granola all by yourself until then. How does that sound?" 

Kelley has joined them, and is rubbing little circles on Clara's back. "We get to have a lady's day, just us. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Clara doesn't say anything, but the hiccups have stopped. Alex rocks her gently, remembering when her hair was barely a tuft and not hanging all the way down by her shoulders. 

(When Jamie comes downstairs, Alex hands Clara off to Kelley so she can tie his shoes for him. His smile is so big that Alex almost forgets the ache she's been feeling since she signed him up for pre-school.)

Kelley is staying home with Clara as Alex drives Jamie to school, and Alex sees how misty her eyes are as she hugs him goodbye. 

She blinks away her own tears, and ushers him out the door and into the car. On the drive, she forces herself to sound happy and excited, not wanting to dampen his day before it even starts. 

She sticks around in the back office for about an hour like the teacher recommends, just in case Jamie has an awful case of separation anxiety. Alex is torn; she wants him to transition well, but she also desperately needs him to still need her. 

(When she gets in the car to go home, she sobs into the steering wheel until she's gasping for breath.)

Alex walks into the house with slightly bloodshot eyes to find Kelley and Clara passed out on the couch, with what looks like glitter in both of their hair. Granola sticks his head up when she walks in, but stays curled up under the coffee table. She carefully climbs over them and tucks Kelley into her chest, feeling the knot in her stomach untangle at the way her wife still tucks her face into her neck, even in sleep. Squeezed between her wife and daughter and the couch, she can almost forget how quickly her babies are growing up. 

Kelley picks up Jamie from his first day, and she takes Granola with her as a surprise. Alex and Clara have a dance party in the kitchen, and by the end of it her back is sore in a way she isn’t used to. Clara is at the age where she wants to walk everywhere, but still has to hold their hand. Alex and Kelley spend the majority of their time bending over nowadays, and flipping a coin to see who gets a massage that night.

(Kelley always accuses Alex of cheating, but she seems to have just as much fun rubbing down Alex's back as Alex has getting the massage.)

Jamie comes home excited about his first day, and talking about all the new friends he's made. Clara doesn't say much, as usual, but she doesn't seem to be paying much attention to him as she normally does. When he asks her if she'd like to go hunt for worms in the backyard with him, a smile finally breaks across her face, and she scampers outside ahead of him.

Alex looks at the Batman backpack her son has left in the hallway and feels the same shock at how fast he's growing up. The week before he had carefully explained the offsides rule to Clara, just like Kelley had explained it to him.

After they put Jamie and Clara to bed that night, Alex and Kelley curl up together under their sheets. Alex wraps her arms around her Kelley’s waist and listens to her heartbeat thud in a steady, unchanging rhythm as her wife tells her how Jamie had already made three new friends in his preschool class, and how they had all hugged goodbye like it was the last time they'd see each other. They fall into a silence, and Alex lets Kelley’s slow breaths soothe her to the point of tranquility.

“Al?” Kelley’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it pulls Alex out of her haze of sleep.

“Yeah?”

Kelley’s quiet for another moment, and drags her hands through Alex’s hair, just the way she likes.

“Does it bother you that Jamie’s going to be learning stuff from other people now?”

Alex frowns and pulls back, maneuvering so that she’s hovering over her wife. Kelley’s hands fall to skimming slowly across her sides, but Alex is more concerned with the way her wife won’t quite meet her eyes.

“Hey,” Alex whispers, shifting her weight to one arm so she can pull Kelley’s chin to face her with her free hand. “What’s up, Kell?”

Kelley lets go a long breath and Alex can smell the slight staleness of her toothpaste. She traces the pads of her fingers across Kelley’s eyebrows and waits.

(Alex has never been good at being patient, but for Kelley she will always try.)

When she does speak, it’s soft, and Alex knows her voice is perilously close to breaking. “In the car, he was talking about all the stuff he learned, and how they had a kind of animals crackers for a snack that he’s never had before, and-” Kelley cuts herself off to take another breath. “It’s just, we were always the ones to teach him stuff before, and show him new things, but now he’s got this whole environment that we can’t control.”

Alex waits, and brushes her thumb across Kelley’s cheek right as the first tear falls.

“I want-” Kelley’s chin trembles. “I want to protect him from everything, for just a little bit longer.”

Alex presses a kiss to her forehead and whispers “me too” against her skin.

(That night, they both stay up a little later than usual, stuck watching time pass with every rotation of their ceiling fan.)

Not long after Jamie's start in preschool, Alex and Kelley sign him up for a soccer league. They take him shopping for his own little pair of turf shoes, and get Clara a new pair of bright red ladybug rain boots so she doesn’t feel left out. Alex is convinced the smile on his face when he stands in front of the mirror in his full uniform for the first time could single handedly create world peace. 

Alex wants to make sure she goes to every single one of his games. Her concerns are more about their crazy schedule than her wife approaching her after the the very first match and saying, "Alex, you've really got to cool it."

Alex looks at her incredulously and continues scrubbing the pot she had made pasta in earlier that night. "What, am I washing the dishes too aggressively?"

"No, Al, Jamie's soccer game."

Alex frowns, turning off the tap and pivoting to face her wife. "What about his soccer game?"

Kelley bites the inside of her cheek, her one tell. It means that she _really _doesn't want to say what she's thinking, and nothing makes Alex more curious to know what's happening inside that brain of hers.__

"Well?"

Kelley sighs. Then—

"You're the obnoxious mom." 

The statement bursts out of Kelley like water out of a collapsing dam. 

Alex is, quite plainly, flabbergasted. " _Excuse _me?"__

"You spent the entire time yelling. Most of them aren't even _five _yet, Al. They aren't even big enough to have goalies!"__

"I'm being _supportive _."__

"You're _being _crazy, and you need to stop before none of the other parents want to schedule play dates with Jamie."__

Alex wants to fight it, but Kelley has the serious look in her eyes that she so rarely uses. Alex has learned the hard way not to challenge it. 

To soften the blow of her slightly harsh words, Kelley smacks a quick on Alex's mouth before leaving the room. Alex spends the next half an hour washing dishes and sulking. 

(At the next game, Alex only yells at the ref. 

Kelley picks her battles.)

Clara and Granola generally come to Jamie's games too, but they spend most of the time playing in the grass and being cooed over by the other parents. Kelley has to split her attention between watching her daughter and her son, because Alex's focus is sharply on the field and nowhere else. Her split attention is why she misses Jamie getting knocked over, and Alex sprinting onto the field.

Alex, whose heart had jumped into her throat the moment her son hit the grass, is now feeling a dangerous level of fury building inside every inch of her body.

(Maybe Kelley wasn’t wrong when she blamed Alex for Clara’s quick temper.) 

Jamie is fine, but Alex is screaming at the ref about fouls and ejecting someone from the game, and the next thing she knows Kelley has an iron grip around her arm and she’s being practically dragged off the field.

(They come to an agreement: Alex yells at the ref all she wants, but not at kids, and she has to hold Kelley’s hand the whole time.

It’s kind of humiliating, but Alex doesn’t mind all that much when Kelley’s warm fingers are lacing between her own.)

They start the tradition of going out for ice cream after his games. Alex claims it’s a treat for Jamie playing so well and Clara being so patient, but the fact that it soothes her slightly sore throat doesn’t hurt.

Alex is quickly becoming the kind of mom that only really talks about how great her kids are. Kelley says that her purse is practically a scrapbook, and she isn’t entirely wrong. Alex has an evolving timeline of growing hair and cheeky grins. Her phone’s storage is almost entirely filled up with pictures that she can’t bear to be away with. They span all the way from her favorite pictures of Kelley, sitting amidst a ridiculous amount of boxes on moving day with head thrown back in laughter, or at their wedding with cake on her nose, or to last week, when she had fallen asleep with Clara tucked into her side and Jamie sprawled on top of her, Granola laying across her feet. There are a couple of soaking wet puppy Granola, and then it’s all Jamie and Clara mugging the camera at every possible second. Alex is scrolling through all of her very favorite memories in the car, since she's fifteen minutes early to picking Jamie up from preschool, when it strikes her just how old she is. Playing into your thirties on the national team isn’t a rarity at all, but Alex thinks about the way her lungs start to ache so much sooner than they used to and how long it takes her to bounce back after a game now and the realization that her soccer playing games are coming to a close smacks her in the face like an 18-wheeler. 

(That night, she tells Kelley, who looks at her in shock before saying that she’s been thinking the exact same thing for a while.)

Kelley refuses to share a retirement game, and demands that Alex retire after her so she can get all the attention she deserves. Kelley's last game with the national team gets far less hype than she deserves, but Alex is as loud as she can possibly be in praising her wife.

Kelley keeps smiling whenever Alex brings up the game, which is slightly unnerving. Despite what she likes to tell people, Kelley is awful at surprises. Alex knows something is up, but she can’t quite put her finger on it. It’s not until Kelley takes off her warm up jumper at the game that she realizes.

In stark white lettering above Kelley’s number five is the name Morgan-O’Hara.

“For the start of something new,” Kelley says, winking.

(They generally keep the PDA to an all time down low when surrounded by the cameras that follow the national team everywhere, but in that moment Aex can’t help but hook her fingers into her wife’s captain armband and kiss her just a little bit dirty.

Alex scores a hat-trick, and Kelley gets subbed out in the 70th minute to a standing ovation.)

When the final whistle blows, Kelley beelines for the stands and lifts both Jamie and Clara down onto the field. Alex hoists Clara into her arms, and laughs when her little girl complains about how sweaty she is.

The four of them stand together as they show a video montage on the jumbo tron of Kelley’s national career, from London to Tokyo and beyond. It fades to black on a slow motion clip of Alex jumping into Kelley’s arms after a big goal at their last Olympics together, and Kelley’s just a little choked up when she thanks the crowd, Jamie’s hand clasped tightly in her own.

It's Kelley who makes her wait at least another three months before she announces her own retirement, and Alex is floored by the response it gets. It's almost like Abby all over again, with the posts and videos and articles exploding over the internet about how she has shaped women's soccer. Alex wouldn't know about that many of them, but Kelley refuses to stop texting her links.

"You bragged for me," she insists over the phone as Alex sulks at her first camp without her spouse. "I want to brag for you a little bit, wifey."

Alex groans and mutters, "I can't wait until we're both retired and only traveling for club. Then I can fight you in person."

"You'd still lose, honey-bun."

(Alex knows she's right.)

Kelley also won't let her pull the same Morgan-O'Hara trick with her jersey, claiming that Morgan 13 is legendary enough that she can't change it in her last game. Alex would fight harder, except that Kelley manages to get both Jamie and Clara on her side, and once that happens she really is powerless.

It was Mia who came out for HAO, but it's Abby who comes out to present Alex with her framed jersey. Seeing her mentor turned friend standing out there in her own Morgan 13 jersey is the first thing that breaks Alex's promise to herself about not crying. It's an old jersey, with those awful red stripes, and Abby is smiling that crooked grin of hers and Alex knows she's going to be a mess.

The rookies are all too scared to ever call her Baby Horse, so it only takes Abby saying those two words to start the waterworks. After that, stopping the tears is almost impossible, and Alex is so thankful she wore waterproof mascara.

The game itself is uneventful—a friendly against a team that's never given them trouble before—and Alex scores the second of their three goals. As she's jogging back to midfield, Alex searches the stands for her family, and finds them cheering right up front with face splitting grins.

(The picture of her kissing Kelley across the barrier is plastered all across the internet in seconds, and Alex does not mind one bit.)

Alex and Kelley celebrate their mutual retirement with a family camping trip. It’s a simple trail, since they figure they’ll have to carry all of their stuff and possibly Clara as well. Granola walks with them, no longer interested in running ahead and content to have Jamie show him each new plant he finds.

When they make it to the camping site, Kelley takes out Granola’s water bowl and the soccer ball she had carried, starting an ultimate one-on-one challenge with Jamie. Granola sits down and drinks his water for a while, and is only persuaded to join Jamie’s side when Kelley starts juggling the ball right in front of his patch of shade. Alex starts setting up the tent, and Clara insists on “helping.” That mostly means that it takes Alex twice as long as usual, but Clara’s determined little face as she tries to connect the poles together makes it entirely worth it.

(Kelley spends five minutes trying to start a fire before Alex hands her a lighter.)

They had packed sandwiches for dinner, and afterwards Kelley surprises Jamie and Clara with s’mores. Granola and Alex watch as Kelley demonstrates the “proper technique” for roasting marshmallows, and Alex bullies her into sharing a bite.

(The picture of the four of them with chocolate and marshmallow in their teeth and smeared across their cheeks is Alex’s phone background for a solid two months.)

That night, Granola sleeps outside of their tent, and Jamie and Clara crash hard in their sleeping bags. Alex and Kelley stay out a little late, stargazing, but are pulled to bed when they realize they’ll probably be waking with the sun. They slip into their sleeping bag, the same one they’ve always used, and Alex closes her eyes to the familiar feeling of Kelley’s face tucked into her neck.

She would guess it’s maybe two in the morning when she hears a soft voice call, “Mama?” 

Alex opens her eyes to see Clara sitting right next to her head. “What’s up, Clare-Bear?” Alex doesn’t like the misty look in her daughter's eyes at all. “Want to crawl in with us?”

Clara nods frantically and climbs across Alex to rest between her mothers. Alex stays up until the rise and fall of her daughter’s chest evens out, and then lets herself get lulled back to sleep by the sound of deep and calm breaths from her three favorite people.

Clara is sensitive in a way that Jamie has never been, and it takes some adjustment from both Kelley and Alex to comfort her with the appropriate level of attention. Alex thinks Kelley is a lot better at it, and she’s proven right more than once.

It’s a Wednesday, and Jamie is off at kindergarten. Granola is napping out in the yard, and Alex is trying to finish writing an opinion piece on the developing women’s game in traditionally sexist countries. Kelley and Clara are finger painting in the dining room, and Alex is half paying attention to their conversation as it flows from topic to topic. Clara has started going to preschool two days out of five, and it hasn’t been an easy transition for anyone. Kelley’s been coping by releasing her emotions into finger painting, and Alex might try it out, since it seems to be working.

Alex in the middle of typing a sentence when she hears, “Mama, why’d you throw out the flowers?”

Kelley’s response is calm and simple. “They were old, kiddo. Plus, they were smelling a little.”

There’s a silence, and Alex tries to rephrase her sentence again. Clara’s voice breaks the quiet again, this time with, “Why’d they die?”

Alex stops typing in the middle of a word, wondering whether she should offer her wife backup.

Kelley responds slower this time, but just as sure. “Well, nothing lasts forever. Flowers are just the same.”

“Why’d you get them, if they were going to die?”

(Clara is quiet, but she likes to know things. Alex thinks that’s why she meshes so well with Jamie, who loves to explain.)

“They make me happy, Clare-Bear. They’re bright and pretty, and smell good. Can you pass the red, please?”

There’s the sound of shifting supplies, then: “Doesn’t it make you sad, Mama?”

“Yeah, of course it does. But they make me so happy when they’re there, that I don’t mind too much.”

Alex waits, sure that there’s going to be another question, but Clara just says “Okay.”

Alex turns around and makes eye contact with Kelley, who mimes wiping sweat off her brow. “Crisis averted” she mouths, flashing a quick thumbs up.

(Sometimes, it feels like Alex and Granola have three children.)

Clara starts soccer just like Jamie did, but is far more enthusiastic. Alex suspects that Jamie’s favorite part of soccer is going to get ice cream afterwards, which isn’t exactly what the point is. Clara, however, falls into it like Alex and Kelley did when they were younger. She’s always been the calmer one of their two children, but the minute she steps onto a soccer field she’s determined and ferocious.

(As usual, Alex stresses. 

“Are we pressuring her? Like, would she be this into it if we hadn’t—”

“What, raised her while we played soccer professionally?” Kelley interrupts. “She loves it, Al. If she stops loving it, she’ll stop playing. _Nothing's _gonna stop that girl from doing what she wants.”__

As usual, Kelley is right.)

Sometimes Jamie and Clara’s games overlap, and the Where Will Granola Go battles begin. Alex might feel hurt that it’s not her attention they’re fighting over, or Kelley’s, but watching them each give extra cuddles to Granola to try and convince him where to go is too cute for her to feel bothered at all. They used to have to put a leash on him at Jamie’s games, since he would try and run after the ball, but he’s far more content to stand by either Alex or Kelley’s side now. The most he does is bark if the ball comes close, but even that doesn’t happen all that often. He mostly just sits quietly and wags his tail whenever a little soccer player will come up to pet him. Sometimes he even falls asleep, and Alex always tries not to laugh when he’s startled awake by a stray soccer ball.

Jamie is sitting in the living room petting Granola when he asks the question Alex has been dreading.

“Mama, how come I’ve got dark eyes, but you and Mama and Clara don’t?”

Kelley is out picking up Clara from a play date, and Alex has never wished for her wife’s presence more.

“Well,” Alex starts. “Everybody’s different, J.”

“Yeah, but don’t people look like their parents? That’s what Ms. Cramer was saying today.”

(Alex wants to kick Ms. Cramer in the shin.)

“Okay, buddy.” Alex says, getting off the couch to get sit by her son. “You know how when women are pregnant it means that they’ve got a baby in their stomach?”

“Uh-huh.” Jamie says, holding Granola’s ears so that they stick up, revealing the gray hairs that are creeping up his head. Pregnancy had been explained to him by Kelley, as Alex tried desperately not to laugh a room away.

“Well, you didn’t come from my stomach or Mama’s stomach.”

Jamie lets Granola’s ears drop. “What?”

“Sometimes, there are mothers and fathers who can’t raise their kids. So, other people will adopt them.”

Alex holds her breath as Jamie frowns. “So, I came from another person’s tummy? Did Clara too?”

“Yeah, baby.” Alex says, smoothing a hand over his hair. “That’s why your eyes are a little different than ours.”

“Is that why Clara’s skin is darker than ours too?”

“Yep,” Alex says, hoping to keep things light.

“Okay,” Jamie replies. “Can I watch TV?”

“Have you finished your book report?”

Jamie smiles and presses his face into Granola’s fur. “Maybe?”

Alex laughs and gets up, oddly pleased that her son is just as bad at lying as she is. “Finish it, and then we’ll talk.”

(She tells Kelley about their conversation later that day, and her wife kisses her slowly before saying, “You’re the best mom, Al.”

Alex kisses her back, and whispers, “Liar.”)

Kelley lets Alex share a retirement game with her on their club team. Neither of them expect to make it to the playoffs, but a surprise result between Seattle and Chicago propels them ahead in the standings. Suddenly, they’re competing for their last championship, and Alex hasn’t felt a fire in her veins quite like this since her last Olympics. It’s that fire that gets her a last minute assist and a last second goal in the semifinals, and the kiss Kelley presses to her lips in the locker room after just makes it burn hotter.

Right before their last game, when Alex is staring at the jersey in her hands, yet to put it on, Kelley walks behind her and smacks her on the ass. “Score another hatty for me, Cap.” She says, smirking.

It’s a rougher game than anyone expected, and Alex ends up on the ground five times in the first ten minutes. She can tell Kelley is getting frustrated, and she is too. She gets pulled down again, this time just outside the 18 and in a perfect position for a free kick. Kelley’s the one to take it, and Alex gets into position with an absolute determination to nail this ball into the back of the net.

She ends up not needing to do anything at all because Kelley’s kick is a laser straight to the upper left corner. The goalkeeper doesn’t stand a chance.

It’s not Alex who gets to Kelley first, but it’s Alex who hoists her up from the ground after a dramatic dog pile. She keeps the hug brief, but yells over the screaming, “Looks like you’ve got the scoring covered, hot stuff.”

The game goes scoreless for the rest of the first half, and the second half as well. Stoppage time is a desperate three minutes of scrambling to keep possession, and when the whistle finally blows Alex can’t think of a more perfect way to end her soccer career: absolutely in awe of her wife.

(Kelley gets Player of the Match and both of them hoist their trophy high with matching grins.)

Their life should be slowing down, but instead it speeds up. There are birthdays of their kids, and of nieces and nephews, and soccer games to attend, and visits to the doctor and the vet, and Alex manages to pick up some light commenting on ESPN somewhere between all the chaos.

Kelley can’t quite seem to decide what she wants to do, if anything. Their sponsorship deals have left them with more than enough, even counting in the eventual college tuitions they’ll be paying. Alex knows that Kelley will drive herself insane if she doesn’t have something to do, but is willing to let her figure that out on her own. In the meantime, they juggle breakfasts and school and walking the dog and lunches and homework and soccer games and dinner and laundry and bath time and every once in awhile they squeeze in a date. Jamie has given up soccer in exchange for a science club that sends him cool kids once a month. More often than not they leave their bathroom a mess of strange substances. It merely gets added to The List, a large whiteboard schedule on their fridge that Alex painstakingly fills out every Sunday with their plans for the coming week. It brings some organization to their crazy life, even though Kelley laughs at her just a bit for color-coding it.

Alex is packing Jamie’s lunch when Kelley comes into the kitchen and says, “I’m thinking about getting a coaching license.”

Alex smiles and tucks a pudding cup in next to Jamie’s sandwich. “Sounds good to me, Kell.”

Just because they aren’t playing professionally anymore doesn’t mean they don’t work out, and Kelley determinedly gets up every morning to go on a jog with Granola. Alex doesn’t know much about their route, but it’s always taken them roughly a half an hour to forty-five minutes to complete. She does start to notice that their morning excursions start to take less time, and she figures it has to do with Kelley not wanting to run as much as she used to have to. Alex, for one, is enjoying gaining a couple of pounds, and sometimes having two servings of ice cream after dinner. 

She figures it out on a Sunday. Clara’s soccer game isn’t until three, so they have a slow morning. Alex is sipping her cup of coffee and going through the mail when she comes to the startling realization that for the first time in fourteen years there isn’t any drool on her bank notice. Granola is out napping in a patch of sun in the backyard, but Alex had figured that the mail in the front hall had been left by him, just like it always had.

“Kelley?” She calls, knowing her wife is reading in the other room.

Kelley calls back, but wanders over when she doesn’t get a response. “What’s up?” She asks, sitting down next to her at the table.

“Did Granola get the mail this morning?”

“Oh,” Kelley says, stealing a sip of Alex’s coffee and sticking her tongue out at the amount of sugar. “He was in the backyard when Gina came. I think he didn’t hear her, so I just went and got it.”

“He’s been in the backyard before.” Alex says, frowning. “He’s always heard her drive up.”

“I don’t think his hearing is as good as it was.” Kelley says, looking out the window at their sleeping dog. “I have to wave to get his attention some mornings.”

“Really?” Alex asks, wondering why she hasn’t caught on sooner.

“Mmhmm. He doesn’t run as far either.” Kelley gets up and wanders over to the fridge. “I think I’m gonna make pancakes. Blueberry or chocolate chip?”

“Chocolate chip.” Alex mutters, lost in thought. Maybe she has noticed Granola being a little different lately. He’s less interested in running after squirrels at the park, but he’s just as energetic as always when it comes to getting a dog treat after breakfast every morning. He _certainly _barks just as much whenever Jamie or Clara come home after school, and chases their soccer balls just as fervently.__

Kelley is usually the one to take Granola to the vet, because Alex really can’t stand waiting rooms, but Alex insists on taking him in for the next appointment. She asks Dr. Stewart to check his hearing specifically, and isn’t surprised when she finds out that it’s almost gone.

“Granola is about fourteen years old,” Dr. Stewart explains carefully. “That’s pretty old for a dog, Alex. Honestly, I’m surprised at how healthy he is.”

Alex nods, and thanks her. 

(She takes her dog to the park on the way home, just to let him roll in the grass.)

Other than Granola occasionally missing the mail in the morning, not much changes. Sometimes they have to stomp on the ground to get his attention instead of just saying his name, but he’s just as happy and lively as he’s always been. He’s the unofficial mascot for Clara’s soccer team, and he occasionally joins Jamie at his Young Scientists bi-weekly meetings.

(Maybe it doesn’t make much sense, but Alex honestly can’t imagine being happier when she sees Kelley washing the goop of Jamie’s latest experiment out of Granola’s fur.)

Jamie doesn’t play soccer on a team anymore, but he loves to team up against Alex and Clara in their backyard. Kelley and Jamie like to cheat—

(“It’s not _cheating _, Alex, it’s _strategy _.”)____

—by coming up with inventive ways to get around the rules. Most recently, Jamie had held the ball between his feet as Kelley picked him up and ran him into the goal. Clara is usually indignant at whatever their latest “strategy” is, and Alex volunteers to distract the other team. Her preferred method is grabbing Kelley around the waist and kissing her slow and deep, which leaves Jamie groaning and gives Clara the all clear to kick the ball solidly into the back of the net. 

(Clara’s goal celebrations usually involve her doing a cartwheel and sliding on her knees. More often than not, Granola will run over, excited by her excitement, and lick all over her face. 

Kelley will gasp in indignation, and groan about being played, and Jamie will tell her not to get distracted so easily, and Alex will laugh until Kelley kisses the grin off her face.

Granola will bark, and Clara will rub his stomach until Jamie challenges her again.)

Granola starts to have trouble climbing the stairs from the backyard, so they build a ramp. He can no longer make it to the bathtub upstairs, so Alex carries him. The fur around his eyes is almost entirely gray, but it blends into the shimmering gold that covers the rest of his body.

Alex kisses her dog on the head every morning before she makes breakfast, and life goes on.

It’s Kelley who takes Granola to the vet, so it’s Kelley who gets told to think about putting Granola down. Alex gets a phone call from her sobbing wife while she’s helping Jamie with his math homework, and she has to spend two minutes comforting her before she can even understand a word that’s being said.

She comforts Kelley through the lump in her throat as she looks at the picture on their fridge of Granola covered in green paint.

(When Kelley gets home, her eyes are just barely red, and Granola walks with stiff legs to his favorite spot under the coffee table.)

They argue for days about how to tell Jamie and Clara, and eventually decide that honesty has always worked best for them.

(Clara runs into her room and shuts the door, and Jamie goes quiet in way that makes Alex wrap him up in a tight hug. His tears are hot against her neck, and Kelley goes to find Clara.)

Jamie’s voice is small, but clear. “It’s not fair, Mama.”

“I know,” Alex whispers into his hair. “But he’s in pain, baby. Fifteen is old for a dog.”

Jamie wraps his arms around her neck and cries harder.

They have one last weekend in the park together, but Jamie and Clara hardly leave Granola’s side. Alex has to carry him to and from the car to a nice patch of grass, and he sits there happily until they go home.

It’s Alex who goes into the room with him, mostly because Kelley had looked like she was going to break if she had to. She brings his bed with her, and makes sure he’s comfortable.

Dr. Stewart gives her a couple of minutes, and Alex is grateful. 

She leans down and presses her forehead to her dog’s.

“You’re _such _a good dog, Granola.” She whispers, her voice breaking. “Thank you.”__

Alex isn’t sure what the thank you is for, specifically. It’s for jumping up to them that day when they walked into the dog shelter, and for showing Alex that she and Kelley could be a family, and for helping her propose, and for being the second cutest part of her wedding, and for being so good with kids, and for being so good with her kids, and for being so loyal, and for running after her soccer balls, and for that one time he chased a raccoon from their backyard, and for how he let Jamie and Clara paint him any color they wanted, and for climbing into the bath with her, and for going on adventures with Kelley, but most of all—most of all it’s a thank you for loving her family in a way that Alex thought no one else could.

(She holds him as Dr. Stewart sets up the IV drip. Granola’s eyes close, and his breathing slows, and Alex can’t stop the tears.)

Alex and Kelley decide to have him cremated, mostly because they aren’t sure that Jamie and Clara can completely handle it otherwise. They bury him in the backyard, right next to their goal, and it’s a bright day with a clear blue sky, and it’s so very quiet.

It’s Kelley who breaks the silence. “Does anybody want to say anything?”

Alex waits for Jamie or Clara to speak up, but when they don’t she says, “Thank you, Granola, for everything. I love you, and I’m going to miss you.”

For a minute or so, there’s no noise besides the wind blowing through the tree in their neighbor’s yard, but then Jamie says, “Me too.”

Clara nods, and Alex can tell from Kelley’s facial expression that if her wife starts to talk she’s going to cry.

“Okay.” Alex nods. “Let’s head in, then.”

(That night, they all sleep in Alex and Kelley’s bed.)

They don’t stop feeling Granola’s absence for a long time. Alex looks for the empty space where he used to be whenever she reads the mail, or when they go to the beach, and sometimes when she’s just reading a book and there isn’t a dog to sit across her feet.

She’s looking at a picture of the five of them, and not bothering to hide the tear sliding down her cheek, when Clara finds her. Alex doesn’t see her come in, and startles a bit when her daughter slides into her lap.

“You sad, Mommy?”

Alex smiles at her. “Just a little bit, baby.”

Clara wrinkles her nose at being called a baby, but rests her head against Alex’s shoulder anyway. They sit together for a little bit, and Alex draws little patterns into Clara’s forearm with her fingertip.

“You shouldn’t be sad,” Clara says, suddenly.

Alex frowns, a little surprised. “Why not, Clares?”

Clara squints up at her with clear blue eyes and says,“Dogs are like flowers, Mommy. They don’t last forever.”

Alex holds her daughter a little closer. 

They don’t get up for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on the twitters and the tumblr dot com @ WNThitsthelinks


End file.
